


hide behind these words (wishing they stayed behind my tongue)

by Krewlak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Jeronica Week Halloween 2018, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-09 12:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16450208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: The first time she sees him from across the diner, Veronica Lodge knows who he is. She would recognize him no matter what face he’s wearing. No matter what face she’s wearing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so maybe i'm weak for anything that is remotely close to 'the fates have put us together and it's rough.' 
> 
> so sue me.

The first time she sees him from across the diner, Veronica Lodge knows who he is. She would recognize him no matter what face he’s wearing. No matter what face she’s wearing. Betty must see the recognition on her face because she frowns and turns around in her seat. She bites her lip and looks back at Veronica. 

_ Oh.  _

How could she miss the green glow in the blonde’s eyes? How could she be so blind? Then again, it makes sense that if he’s here then so is she. 

Betty smirks a little and turns back to the newcomers, calling over her shoulder, “Would you care to join us?”

He smiles at her and Veronica feels her throat close up. It’s the same crooked smile that he always has. The same smile that first garnered Veronica’s attention all those millennia ago. But it’s not directed at her. It’s pointing at Betty and  _ oh.  _

Veronica wraps her lips back around the straw of her milkshake. It’s fine. She can be patient. It’s not the first time and she’s sure that it won’t be the last time either. 

-

“You know you’re never going to get him,” Betty says softly during one of their girl’s nights. They’re friends in this life but there are moments when the old versions of them slip through. Veronica supposes this is one of those moments. “Persephone. In  _ this _ life, he finally doesn’t want you.”

Veronica scoffs and rolls her eyes. She examines her nails and blows on the wet polish gently, lips pursing together. Betty watches her until Veronica finally turns to her with a sigh. 

“We’re teenagers,” Veronica says, raising her eyebrow. She drapes a hand along the back of the couch. Her fingers gently reach towards Betty, savoring the feeling of her warmth. Demeter always was so warm. “He doesn’t know what he wants. And, to be honest, neither do I. I might not even want him in this life.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” Betty says and there’s that old spark of hatred in her eyes. She bats at Veronica’s hand before curling her own pale hand into a fist. The tiny flame of blame and anger for stealing her precious flower away burning brightly in her big, green eyes. “We both know it’s only a matter of time before the obsession starts again.”

“When are you going to realize that it’s always been love?” Veronica asks. She reaches forward for another chocolate, moaning when the rich liquor in the middle bursts against her tongue. “I’ve only ever loved him.”

“Do you love him now?” Betty asks and it’s the voice of a nervous teenager now, not the voice of a goddess. It’s the voice of a girl in the throes of her first real love, not the pining crush that she’s had on Archie. It’s enough to soften Veronica. Veronica scoots closer to the blonde, pulling her in close.

“I barely know him,” Veronica says softly as Betty lays her head on Veronica’s shoulder. “I can see her. Inside of him. And I love that, I suppose. But I can’t say that I love Jughead Jones.”

“I’m sorry, Veronica,” Betty whispers. Veronica isn’t sure what she’s apologizing for - keeping him for herself, maybe? Or it could just be a general apology for their lot in life, that they have to repeat the same dance over and over again, generation after generation. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Veronica replies. 

-

It comes as no surprise that Veronica has settled into a town full of murder with a family that is full of dark secrets. It seems that no matter what life she is thrust into, the Fates won’t let her escape the darkness.

She dates Archie and laughs with Betty and Jughead and tries to forget her past lives, tries to forget ever being a god in her own right. Life in Riverdale is sweet and bitter and all of those things that make mortals cling to life so damn hard. It’s good. For her, at least. It’s important that she remembers how finite it all is when she’s a mortal. It makes her job as a god easier. 

She doesn’t get to know Jughead. Betty is right. He wants nothing to do with her other than as an outlier in his social circle. Veronica doesn’t know if he remembers them, remembers before, and he’s just throwing himself entirely into this mortal life. Persephone, much like her mother, always had a penchant for the dramatic. Veronica isn’t surprised to see the same trait in Jughead. 

Maybe he just doesn’t remember. It happens sometimes. She doesn’t like to think of that. Would rather he be spiteful and cruel in avoiding her rather than forgetful all together. 

Either way, she’s preoccupied with her family and Archie. It’s easy enough to simply ignore him unless needed. 

Besides, she can wait. She’s a patient creature. 

-

They’re days away from graduating when he finally approaches her. 

Veronica is sitting in the corner booth, finishing up the paperwork to put  _ Le Bonne Nuit _ under FP’s control while she goes off to college. He stomps up to her table and slides into her the seat opposite her without invitation. She signs her name with a flourish before putting her pen down and looking up at him. 

His hands are folded on the table and he’s staring down at them with a frown. Veronica takes her glasses off and punches the bridge of her nose, “What is it, Forsythe?”

“I don’t love you in this life,” he says instantly. “I enjoy being Jughead. I enjoy getting to be something different than what I was before. And I don’t love you.” 

“You’ve made that perfectly clear,” Veronica says through clenched teeth. She has a temper in this life. Nothing compared to her godly siblings, of course, but nothing to scoff at. “Just now. And over the past three years.”

He looks up at her, mouth hanging open in shock. She honestly doesn’t know what it is about him that she finds so appealing. But she does. Veronica rolls her eyes and tilts her head at him. 

“Why are you here, Jughead?” Veronica asks. She closes her eyes and tries to remember that they’re just mortals. He doesn’t have to care about her. Besides, she’s finally leaving this town. 

“I have a scholarship for NYU,” he says quickly. “It would be like before. The two of us alone together for six months.” 

He says it all like it’s painful, like it’s torture. Veronica swallows the lump in her throat and shakes the tears from her eyes. It’s stupid and it’s sentimental and it’s Jughead for goodness sake. 

“It’s a large city, Jughead,” Veronica says after a moment. She purses her lips and sits up a little straighter, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure you could avoid me easily.” 

“But would you avoid me?” Jughead asks, narrowing his eyes at her. 

“I’ve only ever respected your wishes,” Veronica says slowly. “You know that.” 

Jughead sits back in the booth with a relieved huff. She almost rolls her eyes at him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. She puts her glasses back on and goes back to her paperwork. They sit in companionable silence while she works and he wallows. 

She resists the urge to point out the moment of deja vu. 

-

Veronica is true to her word. She avoids Jughead Jones while they’re in New York. It doesn’t stop him from casually seeking her out. They rarely speak. He just sits down next to her in the library. At a coffee shop. Falling into step with her as she crosses campus. 

She doesn’t know how he finds her but, then again, she is a taste of home. Both Riverdale and before. She’s sure it has more to do with that than actually wanting her company. Veronica has learned not to expect things from him. 

-

It’s near fall break when she finally asks, “Why?” 

“Why what?” he answers not even looking up from his notebook. It’s midterms and a millennia of knowledge isn’t enough to get them through calculus without some serious cramming. Neither of them are Athena, after all. 

“Don’t be obtuse,” Veronica says, throwing at eraser at him. It hits him in his cheek which earns her a harmless glare. “You wanted to avoid me. Avoid repeating the past.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says. She doesn’t get more than that and she can tell that he wants to change the topic. 

“And yet, here we are,” Veronica points out. She taps her pen against the rim of her coffee mug. He doesn’t say anything so she continues to tap her pen until the vein under his right eye twitch. 

“Do I really need a reason?” he finally snaps. He looks up at her, mouth pressed into a thin line. “I mean, ultimately, does it even matter? We always end up in the same place.” 

“You’re the one who enjoyed being different,” Veronica says with a shrug. She goes back to her notes. Jughead is still watching her. She can feel it but she won’t rise to his bait. 

-

“I never asked,” Veronica says as they walk to the subway one night after multiple glasses of wine and cheese fries. “But how does Betty feel about all of this?” 

“She didn’t tell you herself?” he asks. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his Serpent jacket. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye and she feels a shiver go down her spine. “I thought B and V didn’t keep secrets anymore.” 

“Yes, well, Demeter has other opinions,” Veronica says with a small smirk. It’s the first time that she’s been blatant about their pasts. He doesn’t even blink. She takes it for progress. “She doesn’t like talking about you and I learned to stop asking.” 

“She hates it,” he says with a shrug. It’s the answer she expected but it still turns her stomach that her best friend doesn’t trust her. “She doesn’t like that I’m so far away.” 

“She didn’t have to go to California,” Veronica points out because she can. Because if they’re going to think the worst of her at least she can give them a reason by being petty. “She could have taken the full ride to Columbia. Then you’d be together.” 

“You know that’s not how this works,” Jughead says with a sigh. She’s not sure if it’s regret or irritation that fuels it. She still rolls her eyes though. 

“You do know that, like all the other times, you chose New York?” Veronica says. The words taste bitter in her mouth. “I’m always the bad guy but you always choose.” 

“You don’t have to remind me,” he says with that same sigh. She stops walking and stares down at her shoes. Jughead keeps walking forward a few steps before he realizes that she’s stopped. “Veronica?” 

“I’m tired, Jughead,” Veronica says. She looks up at him and he steps back slightly. She isn’t sure what it is he sees but she doesn’t care. “I’m tired of this game that you’ve been playing. You say you distrust me. You act like you do. Like being near me is a chore. But I  _ never _ seek you out. I respect your wishes and keep my goddamn distance. But here we are. Again. By your choice.”

“Veronica,” he says, softly. He takes a step towards her with a hand reaching out. She steps back. 

“I need space, Jughead,” she says. His face drops and it almost looks like he’s hurt. “And time. Just. Don’t find me anymore. Please.” 

“Veronica,” he whispers but of course she hears it. It’s the first time that she’s ever turned him away like this. Ever. In all of their many lives. Maybe she can be different too. 

“I can’t,” she says, shaking her head. She doesn’t give herself anymore time to think about it before she’s spinning on her heel and walking away. He doesn’t call after her or follow. 

She’ll order a lyft home. There’s more wine in her dorm, anyways. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really glad that y'all are enjoying this so much! warms my little jeronica heart.

Jughead sits on the bench and rests his elbows on his knees. He doesn’t remember coming here. He doesn’t remember leaving his dorm. He looks around him. The park is empty. Which is ridiculous because no where in New York is ever empty. There’s always people. 

There’s a fog rolling across the ground and the sun’s light is filtered through gray clouds. Part of Jughead remembers this, remembers what it was like to be buried under layer after layer of grey. But he was never alone in it. Not then at least.

“Hello?” he asks and his voice echoes throughout the space. He frowns and tries to stand up but his body won’t move. He looks down. His legs are growing moss and bark. Jughead feels his heart start to pound. “The fuck?”

“Your dreams are always so dramatic, bro,” Sweetpea says as he steps out of the swirling gray fog and sits down next to Jughead. He drapes his arms along the back of the bench and spreads his legs wide, taking up the whole damn thing.  

“I didn’t invite you in, Sweets,” Jughead snaps. He tries to rip free his boots that are growing roots. Tries to scrape at the bark on his jeans. Tries to break off the branches that are growing from his chest. “Fuck.”

“You have to relax, Jughead,” Toni whispers softly as she leans forward, hand reaching towards his cheek. Jughead looks up at her with narrowed eyes. She rubs his cheek with her thumb. “You always do this to yourself.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Jughead shouts. Toni jerks back from him, fingers curling into fists at her sides. Her eyes seem to see straight through him, straight to the heart of the lie he’s been spouting for three years now. He tries to lean forward, tries again to break free, but his jacket is sprouting into the bench. He can feel the branches and leaves as if they were part of him. “I didn’t ask for this. I was tricked!”

“Why do you always fall back into that story?” Fangs asks. He leans against the arm of the bench, arms crossed and Serpent tattoo out on display. “We’re the Fates, dude. We know and we don’t judge.”

“I judge,” Sweetpea says, making a cutting motion with his fingers. He smirks at Jughead a little too viciously just then. 

Fangs rolls his eyes and nods, “Sweetpea judges. But you know what I meant. We’re here for you, dude. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed, Fogarty,” Jughead snaps as he continues to struggle. His mouth tastes sweet and rich. He knows that taste. “I’m fucking trapped.” 

“You’re only trapping yourself,” Sweets says. He points at Jughead. “It’s your dream, bro. Own it.” 

“Don’t antagonize him,” Toni mutters, shaking her head. “You’ll only make the nightmare worse.” 

“Worse? How much worse can it get?” Jughead asks. His heart is damn near beating out of his chest. 

“Hello, darling,” a familiar voice whispers against his ear. Jughead jerks as Veronica leans over the back of the bench. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her cheek to his. “You called?” 

“This is just a dream,” Jughead mutters to himself. He closes his eyes and turns his face away from her. 

“I believe the correct term is nightmare,” Veronica says. Toni rolls her eyes and Sweetpea snorts. Fangs mutters her name but there’s no heat behind it, only affection. He’s always hated that she got along so well with his Serpents. “I’m tired of being the monster, Juggiekins.” 

“Then stop stealing him away,” Betty says, raising an eyebrow at the two of them. The Fates groan and the sound sets Jughead’s hair on end. “You always chose her over me. Why is that?”

“Not this time,” Jughead mutters, shaking his head. “I didn’t choose this time.” 

“But you did,” Betty says. “You always choose. You chose New York. You chose her, Jug.” 

“She’s right, you know,” Veronica says softly. She’s still so damn close, arms draped across his chest. Her nails scratch at his shirt and it flakes like bark under her fingers. “Every time you found me. Every silent afternoon. Every lingering look.” 

“It’s okay to want, Jughead,” Toni says. She steps towards him, mouth turned down into a worried frown. “You’ve wanted before and it’s never been this much of a problem.” 

“I’ve never been Jughead before,” he snaps. He struggles against his roots, spits out a pomegranate seed and sneers as it burrows into the dirt. “I’ve never had Betty before. That’s what I want.” 

“But not all that you want,” Fangs says. 

“And that’s the problem, Jug,” Betty says. “You’ve always been so curious. So desperate for new experiences. I’ve never been enough for you.” 

Jughead opens his mouth to say something but the branches are growing up his throat swallowing his words. 

“We repeat the same mistakes that we want to make, Jughead,” Veronica whispers against his cheek. 

Fangs kisses his temple. Sweetpea groans and stands up straight, holding a hand out for Betty. She slides her fingers into his much larger hand and Jughead nearly passes out trying to scream. Toni sighs and leans forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. They leave him alone with Veronica draped over him. 

“It’s only a nightmare if you fight against it, Jughead,” Veronica says softly, against his skin. She steps away from him before appearing in front of him. Jughead turns away from him and closes his eyes. Veronica sighs and cups his cheek, turning his face back to her. She touches his bottom lip with her thumb, dragging the digit along his lip. “Fate is always a nightmare when you fight against it.” 

He isn’t thinking before he’s leaning forward to kiss her. He feels the branches snap and the roots rip and the bark flake away. She smiles into his mouth and cups his jaw, holding him to her. Her mouth tastes of pomegranate seeds and death and lipstick and he can’t get enough. 

He pulls away to catch his breath and wakes up in bed. His chest is heaving and he’s drenched in sweat. His throat hurts and his mouth still tastes of pomegranates and lipstick. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get the taste out. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop de boop here's another part! it very well might not be great but it's done. thanks for the love!

“One for the Argento double feature, please,” Veronica says softly. She’s not paying attention to the worker in the ticket booth, too busy digging through her purse for her wallet. When they don’t say anything she finally looks up with a irritated huff. “Jughead.” 

He’s a deer caught in the headlights. But otherwise nothing about his face has changed in those few weeks that they’ve gone without seeing each other. She licks her lips and gives him a tight lipped smile, “I didn’t know you worked here.” 

He nods and leans forward, pressing the little button, “Not all of us have trust funds to fall back on.” 

Veronica sneers. He knows she gave all of that up. He flinches slightly. As if he realized a second too late what it was he was saying. He looks like he’s gearing up to apologize, so Veronica cuts him off, “Double feature. One ticket, please.” 

The last thing she wants is any kind of pity from Forsythe Pendleton Jones III. He blinks at her before turning to the little monitor and punching a few keys. A ticket prints out and he robotically tells her the price. She hands him exact change and raises an eyebrow at him in challenge. He slides her the ticket silently. 

“Thanks,” she says, feeling slightly hollow in her tiny triumph. It’s bitter in her mouth. Most things are nowadays. “Have a good night.” 

“Enjoy the movie,” he mutters. 

She wanders inside and indulges in the largest icee and popcorn that she can get. The theatre is empty with it’s sticky floors and uncomfortable chairs. Veronica sinks into one with a sigh. She rolls her neck and kicks off her heels, pulling her feet underneath her. She drapes her cape over her and shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Its unlady-like and she gets crumbs all over herself but, for one night, Veronica Lodge just doesn’t care. 

Halloween has always been her least favorite holiday. The costumes and candy and more alcohol than any one person could consume has never thrilled her. When she thinks of Halloween, she thinks of the old days. She thinks of sacrifices and fires and dancing until the sun rose. She thinks of walking among the mortals, wearing her true face, and being welcomed with open arms and laughter. It's been a while since she’s felt that welcome. She misses it. 

The opening credits are starting to play when Jughead drops into the seat next to her. He doesn’t even say anything before shoving his hand into her popcorn. She stares at him for a few minutes but he doesn’t offer any explanation. Veronica sighs and moves the bucket so that he can reach it easily. He gives her a tiny smile, just the corner of his mouth quirking up, before he throws an arm around the back of her chair. 

As the movie plays, they don’t talk. It’s familiar and quiet and Veronica realizes how much she’s missed his calming presence. He’s the only person who doesn’t demand anything of her. She doesn’t have to be the rich bitch or the brilliant entrepreneur or the trendsetter. She can just be Veronica, an ancient god in a young woman’s body. 

“I didn’t know that you liked horror,” Jughead says. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. His leg is stretched out, foot resting against the back of the chair in front of him. He looks completely at ease but Veronica doesn’t miss the anxious twitching of his fingers. 

“I like Argento,” Veronica clarifies. She turns back to the screen just in time to see Daniel’s dog rip out his throat. Veronica grimaces. 

“Isn’t Argento synonymous with horror, though?” he asks before reaching for her icee. He slurps at it loudly. She rolls her eyes but waits until he’s done before moving it out of his reach. “I mean, how can you be a fan of one and not the other?”

“I can look past the horror to see everything else that makes it a great film. The cinematography. The storytelling,” Veronica says. “Unlike some people, I’ve always been good with seeing beyond appearances.”

He turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow, “Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“I would never,” Veronica says with a smirk. 

“Somehow I doubt that, Lodge,” he replies as he sinks back into the chair. He grabs a handful of popcorn and Veronica just moves it into his lap.

“Don’t you have a ticket booth to get back to?” she asks as she sips at her icee again. 

“I was covering for the actual ticket booth attendant,” he says. “I run the projection booth.”

“God, please tell me you’re not living here like in high school?” Veronica asks with a grimace. Her stomach twists at the thought and she has to swallow back the urge to whisk him away to her dorm. She has a single and there’s plenty of room for him. There’s always room for him. 

He must sense her impending offer because he groans, “I’m not homeless, Veronica. Maybe call back the hellhounds?”

“I haven’t had hellhounds in centuries,” Veronica mutters. It’s petulant sounding but she doesn’t care. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“By inviting me to live with you?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. 

“I never actually invited you, you hobo,” she replies, stealing Cheryl’s favorite endearment for him. He laughs a little but it devolves into a grimace when Sara’s throat is slit by her unknown assailant. “Besides, I’m sure you’d say no.

“You’re so sure about that?” he mutters, eyes focused entirely on the screen. 

“I’m sure you’d have some excuse about manipulation and entrapment,” she replies with a shrug. There’s a jump-scare in the film and Veronica grabs his thigh on instinct, digging her nails in. The moment passes and she moves her hand away but her palm still tingles. “I wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

“Veronica,” he says and there’s that pity again. It grates against her very being. “How we ended things. Before.”

“You mean, how you ended things,” Veronica cuts in, voice sharp. 

“Pretty sure you’re the one who didn’t want to see me anymore,” Jughead points out. She clenches her jaw and drops her feet to the ground. She’s sliding her heels on and standing up before she even realizes it. “Veronica?”

“I’m not doing this again,” she says, looking down at him. He opens his mouth to say something else but he stops, teeth clicking when he shuts his mouth. Veronica sighs and deflates slightly. “Goodnight, Jughead.”

-

It's the next night when Jughead knocks on her dorm room door. Veronica is studying, hair tied up and glasses perched on her nose. He has his Serpent jacket on and Veronica wonders if anyone in New York even knows what it means. 

“You didn’t stay for  _ Inferno _ ,” Jughead says, holding up a dvd case. She blinks at him for a moment and he fumbles to pull out another dvd case. “I brought  _ Mother of Tears _ too. You know. Finish off the trilogy.” 

She’s still processing the fact that he’s at her door again when he shoves both cases into her hands. He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his boots, “Just let me know when you’re done with them and I’ll swing by.” 

“You’re not going to watch with me?” she asks, still looking at the dvds. She looks back up at him to find that he’s watching her with his stormy blue eyes. 

“Thought you didn’t want me around,” he says after a second.

Veronica rolls her eyes and turns around to go back into the dorm. She looks over her shoulder at Jughead and raises an eyebrow, “And I thought you wanted to avoid me.” 

“We are creatures of habit,” Jughead says as he steps through the doorway. Veronica tried to smother the smile that’s threatening to break out over her face. “I am sorry, though. For the way I acted before.” 

“You’re not forgiven,” Veronica says. Jughead’s face drops a little. She turns to him and touches his arm. Nothing more than a graze of her fingertips against against the leather of his jacket but she feels it go through her. “But I get it. It chafes sometimes.”

“That’s an understatement,” he mutters, eyes firmly fixed on her hand. He twitches slightly and she pulls away as if burned. 

“Well, you don’t have to stay. I’m sure I’ll survive watching on my own,” she says with some false cheer. He makes a face at her and she sighs, sitting back down amongst her books. “I’ve told you. Whatever you want is what I want, Jughead. I didn’t force you before. I’m not going to now.” 

“And if I don’t know what I want?” he asks. Veronica pauses, hands hovering over her bag. It’s the first time he’s said anything like that. In this life at least. Veronica never thought she would hear him utter words like that. Not towards her at least. 

She looks at Jughead over the rim of her glasses. He’s standing in profile and  _ oh _ . It doesn’t seem possible but she’s forgotten how pretty he can be. He turns to her, eyebrow raised. “Veronica?” 

“I’m a patient creature, Jughead,” she says. She gives him a slight smile, feels an old flame get new life in her chest. “I can wait for you to figure it out.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am staying on schedule dammit! here's day four. i totally should have started my nano today. oh well. lol.

Jughead lets out a slow breath as he steps into the small bar. It’s dingy and dark and nothing at all what he was expecting when Veronica texted him about getting a drink. She’s sitting in the corner, hair pulled up into a bun and face clean of makeup. It’s the most dressed down that he’s ever seen her in public and his stomach drops. There’s a bottle of wine and two glasses, hers half empty and smudged with lipstick. 

“Veronica?” he asks as he sits down. “You okay?” 

She looks up at him with a half smile, “My father is going back to jail.”

He doesn’t have anything to say to that. A part of him relaxes at the news, sinks into the chair a little more. Veronica notices and her half smile turns into a vicious smirk. She pours him a glass of wine and tops off her own. She holds her glass up for a toast, “Cheers. I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“You know it’s not that simple,” Jughead mutters. He leaves his wine where it is, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “It’ll be easier for the Serpents, sure. And he’s been enemy number one since the beginning but he’s your dad. I’m not going to cheer him getting locked up. Not in front of you, at least.”

She sneers and takes a long drink from her wine glass. She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand and pours the rest of the bottle into her glass. Jughead raises his eyebrows at her but doesn’t say anything. She’s definitely a little drunk and it’s something that Jughead hasn’t seen since high school. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “What?”

“Please don’t pretend that you care,” she says as she wraps her fingers around the stem of her wine glass. “We both know that you don’t give a shit.”

“Veronica,” he says. She drinks her wine again, a droplet escaping her mouth and trailing down her chin. He’s half-tempted to reach across the table and wipe it away. He pushes the urge down. 

“My father is a bad man,” Veronica says slowly, words thick like molasses. “He is a bad man in this life. He was a bad man in my first life. He has always been a bad man and he’s going to keep being a bad man. So, why the fuck is my heart breaking?”

Her face crumbles and she covers it with her hands, muffling the sound of her crying. Jughead doesn’t think before moving around the table and pulling her into his chest. She clutches his shirt and cries into his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and holds her close, pressing his mouth to the top of her head. He’d never noticed before just how tiny she was compared to himself. 

“We can’t help loving our parents,” Jughead mutters against her hair. She’s still crying but her grip on his shirt is loosening. “Even if we are ancient gods in the bodies of teenagers.”

“He’s done so much harm. Hurt so many people. People that I care about,” Veronica says, shaking her head. Her arms slide around his waist holding him tight. “He’s a monster.”

“He’s your father,” Jughead says. She shakes her head and he sighs, leaning away from him her a little. He moves to cup her face, tilting her head back so that he can look her in the eyes. “He wasn’t always a monster in your eyes. He wasn’t always scheming to ruin things for you and your friends. You’re allowed to be sad, Veronica.”

“It doesn’t feel right,” she mutters. Her tears have stopped but she hasn’t pulled away from him. He hasn’t pulled away from her. He rubs his thumb over her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into his palm. It amazes him how natural this feels. It shouldn’t but it does. “Crying over him.”

“Don’t get me started on the tears I’ve shed over my dad,” Jughead replies with a smirk. “Emotions don’t always make sense.”

“Being mortal doesn’t make sense,” Veronica says with a pout that makes him want to kiss her. 

He drags a hand to the back of her head, fingers in her hair. Her eyes flick to his lips and there’s a heavy moment when he thinks she might just do it. The moment passes and she closes her eyes again. He drops his hands from her but she doesn’t let go of him. He rests his hands on her hips instead, thumbs rubbing over the silk of her dress. 

“I’m going to get more wine,” she mutters after a moment. 

She squeezes his sides before she finally pulls away from him. He watches her walk slowly over to the bar, hand out to stay steady and heels clicking on the tiles. He rubs a hand over his face and sits back down at the table. He takes a large gulp of his wine and tries to get the way Veronica had looked at his mouth of his mind. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Veronica says softly as she rejoins him at the table with another bottle of red wine. She holds her glass by the stem, spinning it with her fingers. She doesn’t look at him, eyes firmly on the swirl of her wine. “I’m sure you have better things to be doing at midnight on a Tuesday.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he replies with a small smirk. 

“I was trying to be nice,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She picks up her wine glass again and sips a slower than before. “I’ll remember not to in the future.” 

“You do that,” he says with a smirk. It feels like flirting but he can’t remember the last time he flirted with anyone. He knows he’s rusty. Knows he could be reading this entirely wrong. “Why call me? No New York bff to fill the void?” 

“You are my New York bff,” she whispers, leaning forwards a little. She puts a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell, Betty.” 

“We broke up,” he says. Her hand drops to the table and her mouth makes a perfect o. Again he’s tempted to kiss her. That’s happening a lot tonight. He’s going to blame the wine. “The distance got to her. The distance and the not knowing.” 

“Not knowing?” Veronica asks, coyly. She sips at her wine again, raises her eyebrow playfully. It seems a little more genuine than her earlier smile. If it weren’t for the dried tears on her cheeks, you’d never know she was crying just a moment before. 

“About you. Us. The past,” he says slowly. “Nothing new.”

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine once you’re back in Riverdale,” Veronica says. She’s not looking at him again and he doesn’t like it. 

“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. He finishes his glass and pours himself another. Veronica holds her glass out to him and he raises an eyebrow. 

“Jughead, I’m the god of the underworld,” she deadpans. “I can handle my wine.” 

He snorts and fills her glass. 

“You, however, I distinctly remember as having no head for wine,” she says with a crooked smile. She sips her wine, smirking around the rim of her glass.

“Maybe I’ve grown to like it in the past millennia,” he says. She chokes on her wine a little and he laughs. “What?”

“I think that’s the most casual I’ve ever heard you talk about it,” she says. 

Her eyes scan his face and he remembers the very first time that they met. Back when all Jughead knew were flowers and sunshine and his mother’s love. She’s scanned his face the same way then. It still makes him feel truly seen just like it did that first time. 

“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” he says. He can feel a goofy grin threatening to spread across his face. He smothers it down to a smirk. It’s the best he can do. 

She groans and throws a balled up napkin at him. He laughs then and she follows. They continue to laugh and tease as they finish the second bottle. By then, she’s definitely drunk and Jughead isn’t too far behind her. 

She holds a hand out for him as he stands next to the table. He raises an eyebrow as he takes her tiny hand in his own. She uses him to pull herself up. He holds out his other hand to try and keep her steady. She grabs onto him and smiles, “Thanks.” 

“Anytime,” he replies. She steps closer to him, siding her hands up his forearms. 

“I’m serious,” she says, looking up at him. “Thank you for coming out. For comforting me. You didn’t have to.” 

“Anytime,” he repeats, gripping her waist with both hands. She bites her bottom lip and he finds himself leaning in slightly. 

“You’re not that different, you know,” she says softly. He makes a face and she shakes her head. She dances her fingers up his arms, draping her arms around his shoulders. “From before. You still make things grow.”

“I don’t exactly leave trails of flowers in my wake anymore,” he says with a laugh. He rolls his eyes and she tilts her head back a little, leans her body into his. He wraps his arms around her waist to keep her standing up. 

“No,” she says, shaking her head. Her fingers scratch up the back of his neck and dig into his hair. She looks up at him again and he realizes just how close they are. “You’re not getting it. The Serpents. The paper. Hell. The entire Southside. You made all of that grow, Jughead. You.” 

“Veronica,” he whispers. 

She gives him a sloppy smile and he leans in, pressing his mouth to hers. She stands on her toes and curls her elbows around his neck, pulling him in tight. 

She tastes like red wine and pomegranates.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty then.

“They need you back,” Reggie says as he walks with her to class. He doesn’t go to school. She’s not exactly sure what it is that he does since they graduated. He just shows up sometimes, spends a few days with her, disappears again. “The Fates and FP.”

“They have names, you know,” Veronica says. She adjusts her hold on her books and Reggie rolls his eyes, taking them from her. 

“Fine,” he mutters. “Toni, Fangs, and Sweetpea need you back.”

“Is there a reason?” she asks. She loops her arm through his and leans into him for warmth. “I left the speakeasy in FP’s hands and Pop Tate can handle the diner.” 

“It doesn’t have to do with Pop’s, Ronnie,” he says. “They said it’s business. Proper business.” 

“Oh,” she says, feeling her stomach drop. “They’ve been handling things well. What could they need from me?” 

“It’s your realm, Ronnie,” Reggie says with a shrug. “I’m just doing my part as messenger.” 

“I’ll call them tonight,” Veronica says as she slows her steps. Reggie hands her books back and lifts her face towards his with a finger. “What?” 

“Just making sure you’re not pulling a  _ you,”  _ he says softly, eyes scanning her face. She pulls her chin away with a scowl. He shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. “You’re the one who tends to get distracted when he’s around. I just want to make sure that you’re not forgetting your responsibilities.” 

“Isn’t the whole point of being mortal to avoid those responsibilities?” Veronica mutters. 

Reggie snorts and nods, “Maybe. But we’ve all been doing this too long. The other realms are suffering for it.”

“Are the others going back?” she asks softly. They both know who it is she’s talking about. 

“I haven’t told him yet,” Reggie says. “Besides, your realm is his. So. Figured you’d tell him.”

“You’re making an awful lot of assumptions for someone who claims to be nothing more than a messenger,” Veronica says with narrowed eyes. Reggie smirks at her and it does nothing to calm her nerves. “What aren’t you telling me, Reggie?”

“Talk to the Fates, Ron,” he says before spinning on his heel and walking away. He waves at her over his shoulder and Veronica watches him disappear into the crowd of students. 

-

She dreams that night. Dreams of a throne room that she hasn’t seen in a hundred years. The shadows seem longer, the fragments of light weaker. Its cold and sad and she sees what it is Reggie meant. 

“You certainly took your time,” a voice says against her cheek. Veronica turns on her heel, hair flying around her face. A shade of a face smirks at her through the shadows and Veronica steps towards it. “We’ve missed you.”

“What’s happening?” she asks. Her voice floats through the room like fog. The cold seeps into her bones and she feels power course through her veins.

“There’s a balance and we’ve all thrown it out of whack,” a new voice says against the back of her neck. “The fields are dying. Tartarus is crumbling.”

“Mortals don’t need the fields anymore,” Veronica mutters. 

“Mortals will always need the fields,” the final voice of the trio says against her hair. She sighs and closes her eyes. 

“I hate this ghost thing you guys do,” she mutters. The air around her laughs, the sound making her skin crawl. She waits for the air around her to thicken, waits for their forms to take proper shape. When she opens her eyes, Toni, Fangs and Sweetpea are standing in front of her. “Much better.”

“Why are you always a brat?” Sweetpea asks with a frown. Veronica opens her mouth to say something but he stops her with a finger in the air. His eyes lose focus and the throne room sways and shifts, losing shape for a second. He makes a cutting motion in the air, the soft snip filling the room, before the room solidifies again. “Alright. What were we talking about?”

“Everything going to shit,” Fangs offers. He scratches at the back of his neck and sighs. “We need you back, V.” 

“Why?” Veronica asks. 

“Does it matter?” Toni replies. She’s doing that thing where she sees into Veronica’s heart. Veronica doesn’t appreciate the intrusion. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Sweetpea asks looking between the two of them. 

“They’re finally figuring it out,” Fangs supplies. Of course he would know. 

“So?” Sweetpea asks with a frown. He crosses his arms. “They can keep figuring it out down here. Where they belong.” 

“He has to choose it, Sweets,” Toni says, rolling her eyes. She gives Veronica another searching look. “He will choose it, right?” 

“He’s on the fence,” Fangs supplies before Veronica can say anything. She gives him a withering look and he throws his hands up. “Not my fault I have to watch all this shit.” 

“You could at least try to sound like you don’t enjoy it,” Veronica mutters. She sways on her feet a little, feels the ground rumble under her heels. “You three still haven’t told me what’s going on.” 

“The same thing that’s always going on,” Sweetpea says slowly like she’s a child. “Life and death and our role in it. The underworld needs a master, Veronica. It’s been too long.”

“Haven’t you guys been handling it just fine?” she asks and it’s a whine that is far from dignified. “You’ve been slipping in and out of the realms for centuries. What’s changing?”

“It’s been centuries, V, that’s the problem,” Toni says with a sad smile. 

“We were never meant to maintain the underworld for so long,” Fangs replies with a shrug. He’s fading in and out of her sight, face switching between the young woman he was a million years ago and the face that he wears now. “It’s becoming unsustainable.”

“The point is, princess,” Sweetpea huffs. “It’s not our fucking job.”

“Fine,” she snaps and the throne room comes into crystal clear focus. Her hands curl into fists and the fog clears a path towards the throne. “Fucking fine.” 

“We are sorry, Veronica,” Toni says softly. She holds her hand out for Veronica. 

“We all have our roles to play,” Veronica says with a sigh. She takes Toni’s hands and walks towards the throne. With each step she begins to feel them. 

“They’ve been waiting for you,” Sweetpea says from her side. She turns to him. Sees the old woman that lives inside of him. It’s a comfort almost. Seeing their first faces. 

Veronica sits down on the throne, spine straight and hands resting in her lap. She lets out a slow breath, watches the shades of Riverdale take form around her. Dilton and Ethel with their blue lips. Midge covered in blood and wearing a costume. Jason Blossom with the bullet hole between his eyes that are so like Cheryl’s. They kneel, eyes turned to the ground and heads bowed. 

The Fates stand to the sides of her throne. Veronica feels Toni’s fingers on one shoulder and Fangs’ on the other. She knows Sweetpea is standing behind her, tall and imposing. 

Veronica closes her eyes and lets the dream fall away. When she opens her eyes again she’s in her dorm. They’re still around her. The dead of Riverdale. They stand around her bed, staring down at her. Waiting for her. 

Her phone pings and Jughead’s name pops up. She groans and covers her face, “Fuck.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is stupid long and so i decided i'm not going to make it seven chapters but six instead. things kind of just wrapped themselves up in this one. sorry not sorry. :)

Jughead hasn’t seen Veronica in days. Weeks. Almost a month. He’s tried seeking her out like he’d done before to no avail. It’s almost like she’s disappeared off the face of the planet.

He’s lurking outside the library, cigarette dangling from his lips, when Reggie finds him. He hasn’t seen him since high school. Hasn’t been interested in seeing him since high school.

“Reginald,” Jughead says with a wary look. Reggie smiles and holds his hand out as if this were a business meeting. Jughead raises his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Whatever, dude,” Reggie says with a sigh. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and squares his stance. There’s the Reggie he remembers. “I’m here on business. Obviously.”

“Since when do we have business?” Jughead asks. He stubs his cigarette out on the sole of his boot and toss the butt into a trash can. Reggie raises his eyebrow. “Poisoning my body is one thing. Poisoning the earth is another.”

“Such a fucking flower child,” Reggie mutters, shaking his head. “The only reason that I’m even here is because Veronica didn’t talk to you about it herself.”

“Talk to me about what?” Jughead asks, taking a step towards him.

“We’ve been hanging around for too long,” Reggie says. “I told her, like, a month ago. So, she’s already gone back.”

“What do you mean? Gone back?” Jughead asks, feeling his stomach drop.

“To Riverdale. The underworld,” Reggie says. Reggie stares at Jughead for a second before snorting. He shakes his head and gives Jughead a sly smirk. “Man, never thought I’d see the day.”

“What?” Jughead asks, jerking back a little. “What are you talking about?”

“All that talk about being a loner? A weirdo? And then your Serpent King bullshit?” Reggie says with a laugh. “Only to end up panting after Veronica anyways.”

“I’m not panting after her,” Jughead says, frowning.

“Whatever,” Reggie says with a shrug. He sighs and looks up at the sky. “I delivered the message.”

“Job done,” Jughead agrees. He’s not thinking about Reggie anymore. He’s thinking about Veronica. About why she would leave without him. Why she wouldn’t even offer.

“She doesn’t think you want her,” Reggie says suddenly. “Or at least, that’s the rumor.”

Jughead glares at him until Reggie rolls his eyes. He turns to go, giving Jughead a side-eyed look. He sighs and says, “Dude, I do talk to her.”

“So, that’s a direct quote then?” Jughead asks, frowning.

His stomach turns over. He thinks he’s going to be sick. He’s not prepared for this. He never has been. He never even considered that this was a possibility. She’s walked away before. But it was never so permanent.

“I’m capable of reading between the lines. Which apparently is a serious weakness of yours,” Reggie says, raising an eyebrow at him.

Jughead balls his hands into fists. He’s already planning on how he’s getting to Riverdale. He doesn’t have his bike but he has enough money for a bus ticket. He could be in Riverdale that night.

“Come on, Wednesday Addams,” Reggie says with a huff. “I have some business there. I’ll give you a lift.”

“Really?” Jughead asks, narrowing his eyes. “Why help me?”

“I’m not,” Reggie replies. He starts walking away and Jughead scrambles to keep up with him. “I’m helping Veronica.”

-

“You know that there are trials now,” Reggie says as they pull into Sunnyside Trailer Park. “It won’t be as easy to enter the underworld as it once was.”

“Why?” Jughead asks as he gathers his things. His dads bike is parked out front. So, is Alice Cooper’s car. Jughead stares at it with a sense of trepidation. That was not a conversation he was ready to be having just yet.

“Couldn’t have some random stumbling upon it and claiming the throne,” Reggie says with a shrug. He peers at the trailer through the windshield with a certain level of curiosity that is just shy of being rude. “It was protecting itself until Veronica came home to roost.”

“Great,” Jughead mutters.

Reggie laughs and slaps his back, “Don’t worry Gomez. I’m sure Morticia is going to be thrilled to see you.”

“Where is the entrance?” Jughead asks with a sigh. He grabs he handle of his bag and opens the door, sticking a leg out. He just wants his information and to get out of there.

“Check in with your Serpents,” Reggie says. He shakes his head. “You should know this shit already, dude.”

“Really?” Jughead snaps. “Any other helpful advice, Reginald?”

“Be honest with her,” Reggie says softly. “Above all else the girl deserves someone who’s gonna be honest. Always.”

Jughead pauses. It’s probably the best advice that he’s ever gotten about a girl. Of course it comes from Reggie and, of course, it’s about Veronica. He doesn’t miss the irony.

“Thanks, Reggie,” Jughead says after a moment. “For the ride and be advice.”

Reggie looks at him for a long minute before shrugging. Jughead takes it for what it is and gets out of the car. As soon as Jughead slams the door shut, Reggie peels away in a cloud of dirt. Jughead turns to look at the trailer. He shakes his head before spinning on his heel and heading towards the White Wyrm.

The bar is deserted. Has been since they chased the Ghoulies out but he knows that he’ll find them there. There isn’t anywhere else in the Southside to hang out and despite both Veronica and FP’s best efforts _Le Bonne Nuit_ has always been a Northsider spot.

“Jones! You finally made it,” Sweetpea says as Jughead steps through the door. He’s playing pool and looks up at Jughead with a vicious smirk. “Took you long enough.”

“You couldn’t tell me? That she was coming back?” Jughead snaps. Sweetpea rolls his eyes and continues to line up his shot. Jughead huffs and marches forward, grabbing the cue ball off the table. “I asked you a question, Sweetpea.”

“It’s not our job to keep you up to date, Jones,” Sweetpea says slowly as he stands up straight. “Kind of like it wasn’t our job to keep the Serpents in line or the underworld in check while you were off in New York.”

“Give him a break, Sweets,” Toni says as she comes from the backroom. “He’s here now. That’s what matters.”

She takes the cue ball from Jughead’s hand and gives him a tired smile, “Welcome home, Jughead.”

“What the hell is going on, Toni?” Jughead asks, lowering his voice. Sweetpea rolls his eyes and takes the cue back from Toni. Jughead can’t help but glare at the back of his head. “Reggie said Veronica came back.”

“She did,” Toni says with a nod but she doesn’t give him anything else.

Jughead frowns and tries to be patient, tries to wait her out. But he’s never been a patient creature, “And?”

“And what?” Toni raises her eyebrows and tilts her head at him. Sweetpea laughs behind them and it makes Jughead clench his jaw. “She made a choice, Jughead. You know choice. That little thing you’re so damn fond of?”

“Fine,” he says. “Where’s the entrance?”

“You’re not serious, are you?” Sweetpea asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jughead asks, shaking his head.

“You let her walk away, dumbass,” Sweetpea says. “You can’t just change your mind at the drop of a hat and expect shit to work out.”

“There are trials now. Reggie warned me already,” Jughead says, trying not to rise up to Sweetpea’s bait.

“Oh. Reggie warned you. In that case,” Sweetpea says, holding his hands up.

“Sweetpea,” Toni snaps. “Stand down.”

“Why? So, he can run off to his happy ever after until Betty comes calling again?” Sweetpea snaps back. “So, we can help him again without any thanks.”

“Is that what this is about? I leave you with a little responsibility and it’s just too much for you?” Jughead asks, turning to Sweetpea.

“We’ve watched you play the same game for centuries, Jones,” Sweetpea says slowly. “We’ve watched you change your mind, switching between the two of them. Who do you think comforts her when you go away again? Who do you think picks up the slack?”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that,” Jughead says. He feels the guilt swirl up on gut. Familiar guilt. The same guilt he felt every time he left the underworld. He knows. Of course he knows.

“But we do it anyways,” Sweetpea says with a sigh. He deflates slightly, staring at Jughead, before he shakes his head and turns away. “Be careful with her this time, Jones. That’s all I’m saying.”

Jughead doesn’t get to say anything back before Sweetpea is walking out of the bar. Jughead turns to Toni with raised eyebrows. She’s frowning after Sweetpea, eyes far away and searching.

“I never saw it,” Toni says softly. She shakes her head, a sad smile spreading across her face. Jughead has he feeling that she’s not talking to him. “I wonder if Fangs did.”

“Where is Fangs?” Jughead asks. “Can he show me the entrance?”

“He’s waiting for you,” Toni says, turning to Jughead. “At Dilton’s bunker.”

“That’s the entrance?” Jughead asks with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been there before.”

“Not with Fangs,” Toni says with a smirk.

-

Dilton’s bunker hasn’t changed since the last time he was there with Betty. The Gargoyle King drawings and notes are all gone, replaced with movie posters and pictures of their friends. Jughead inspects the walls with a strange longing. Not for Betty but for the simplicity of that time. It used to be so easy loving her.

“Jug?” Fangs asks as he steps into the living space from one of the tunnels. “You got here quick.”

“Didn’t really pause after getting into town,” Jughead says with a shrug.

“Eager to see her?” Fangs asks with a knowing smirk. “Wouldn’t blame you.”

“It’s something like that,” Jughead mutters. He feels off talking about Veronica in the space where he shared so many memories with Betty. “Since when is this the entrance?”

“It moves around,” Fangs says with a shrug. “Reggie usually keeps track of it but I’ve been covering since he’s off running messages. Took me weeks to track it down to here.”

“Well, I’m here,” Jughead says, holding his hands out. “Take me to your leader.”

“Seriously, dude, the fact that you made it out of high school is pretty amazing,” Fangs says, waving for Jughead to follow after him. “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

“Says you,” Jughead mutters. Jughead follows after Fangs through the labyrinth of tunnels. “We’re not going to meet any deranged clowns down here are we?”

“If that was a lame attempt to figure out what the trials are, you’re going to have to do better,” Fangs replies over his shoulder.

Jughead sighs and follows after him. He tries to keep track of the turns that they make but he quickly gets turned around. He knows that he won’t be making it out of here on his own. Then again, he doesn’t plan on coming back out alone. He plans on bringing Veronica with him.

They pass through one final archway and the air around them changes. There’s a thick fog that wraps around Jughead’s ankles and the air smells wet. Fangs seems to shift in the swirling mists, shape becoming slender and feminine.

“Welcome back,” Fangs says softly, his voice brushing against Jughead’s eardrums. He’s pretty sure that Fangs didn’t even move his lips.

They come up to a river and Jughead recognizes the boatman, “Dilton?”

“Jughead?” he replies, standing up straight. He frowns and looks at Fangs. “Did you? How? Are you dead?”

“No, Dilton,” Jughead says, rolling his eyes. He points a finger and looks between the ghostly shade of Fangs and Dilton. “Have you always?”

“Oh! No. No,” Dilton says with a shake of his head. “Veronica gave me the assignment.”

“Oh,” Jughead says, nodding. “Well.”

He steps towards the boat but Dilton holds his hands out, “Woah, dude. If you’re not dead, you need to pay the toll.”

“Pay the toll?” Jughead asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Everyone pays a toll, Jughead,” Fangs says. Dilton nods along. “Even you. You’re not queen of the underworld anymore.”

Dilton’s eyes widen and he looks between the two of them slightly bewildered. Jughead sighs and pats his pockets. He doesn’t have anything with him other than his jacket and hat. He thinks with his hands on his hips before reaching up and pulling free one of his hat pins. He twirls it between his fingers before shoving it towards Dilton.

“My sister gave me these,” Jughead says, throat tight. He still has one pinned to his hat. But it’s tough giving up just one. “So. We good?”

Dilton licks his blue lips and nods before taking the pin. He shoves it in his pocket before turning on hisI  she doesn’t play heel and walking towards the boat. Fangs pulls Jughead into a hug, fading arms wrapping around his shoulders, before shoving him after Dilton.

“Don’t fuck it up this time, Jones,” Fangs says, pointing a finger at him. Jughead flips Fangs off over his shoulder before stepping into the boat.

They cross the river silently. It’s not a long ride. The waters swirl with the freshly dead, hands reaching up towards Jughead. Dilton bats at them with his oar, explains how they crave the life that is pouring off of Jughead. It’s only a matter of minutes before they’re banking on the opposite side. Jughead stands up and turns to Dilton. He stares at him before blurting out, “I’m sorry, Dilton. For not listening. The day of Archie’s trial.”

Dilton shrugs, “It’s okay. I talked it out with Sweetpea. After. I wasn’t gonna make it out alive. Of high school, I mean. So.”

Jughead swallows the lump in his throat. He nods. Dilton gives him an enigmatic smile before Jughead climbs out and starts the hike up the hill. He can feel Dilton’s stare in his back the whole way up.

At the top of the hill, Jughead jerks back. Cerberus hasn’t taken a new form like the rest of them. All three heads snap at him, straining at the chain that holds the dog back. Jughead holds up both hands and looks over his shoulder but Dilton is gone. Jughead curses under his breath and turns back to the snarling dog.

“Hey, pooch,” Jughead falls out softly. It sounds ridiculous. He’s ridiculous. This situation is ridiculous. “Nice hellhound. Good hellhound.”

The dog huffs, straining forward to sniff at the air around Jughead. He’s still snarling a little, heads still baring their teeth but it seems slightly less dire. Jughead takes a deep breath before sprinting forward between its legs. It’s stupid and way too like a cartoon but it’s the only thing he can think of.

He’s lucky. He makes it. Barely. He definitely felt the wet breath against his neck. Jughead keeps running forward until he’s far enough away that he can stop. He looks over his shoulder to the top of the hill and sees the beast losing its mind.

“Impressive, True Detective,” Cheryl Blossom’s voice rings out. Jughead closes his eyes and groans. “I honestly did not expect you to make it past that one.”

“Cheryl,” he says turning to her. She’s lounging on a blood red chaise lounge. She gives him a bright smile and sits up straight. “Please don’t tell me that you’re the next trial.”

“God no!” Cheryl says with a scoff. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and gingerly stands up. “As if I would ever call this place home.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Jughead asks. His stomach drops and he steps forward with a hand stretched out. “Are you? You’re not?”

“You are so terrible at spotting your own kind, you know that?” Cheryl huffs. “Goddess of love, you hobo, and I am here to help you. Unless you want to face another slew of monsters?”

“Why are you helping me?” Jughead asks, eyeing her suspiciously. They never got on. Not even when she was a Serpent. They cared. At bare minimum as members of the same gang but other than that? There wasn’t any love lost between the two of them.

“I’m helping Veronica,” she says. In the blink of an eye she’s standing in front of him. She cups his jaw in both hands. “She puts on a good front. Our resident ice queen. But she’s as delicate as those flowers you used to tend so loyally.”

“What do you want, Cheryl?” Jughead asks softly. She considers his face, eyes flicking down to his mouth. What is with the women in this fucking town? “No, Cheryl.”

“This isn’t some loyalty test to see if you’ll kiss someone else,” she says, rolling her eyes. She scrapes her nails against his cheeks and smirks a little. “It's all about the magic, my serpent king.”

“I don’t like it,” Jughead says. He leans forward a little, tries to relax even with her claws against his skin.

“You don’t have to but I am taking that as a yes,” she replies before leaning forward to press her lips to his.

He responds briefly before Cheryl is running her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opens for her, feels her groan into his mouth. Her fingers slide into his hair and she presses herself against him. He keeps his hands to his sides, keeps his mouth as still as he can despite the way Cheryl is plundering it. She nips at his bottom lip gently before pulling away with a satisfied smile. She rubs her thumb along his bottom lip, wiping away whatever lipstick she’s left behind. Jughead pulls away and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Satisfied?” Jughead asks with a slight sneer. Cheryl nods and wipes at her lips with two fingers. “Great. Can I go now?”

“Treat her right,” Cheryl says, staring him down. “You know how sharp my aim can be.”

“Fair enough,” Jughead says with a nod. Cheryl continues to stare at him before snapping her fingers. A second later, they’re in a very familiar throne room looking at a very startled Veronica. “Thanks.”

“Toodles!” Cheryl says before disappearing all together.

Jughead turns to Veronica and gives her a little nod, “Veronica.”

“What are you doing here?” she snaps, standing up from the throne. She’s draped in a grey dress that’s a little too reminiscent of the old times.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jughead asks in return.

“It didn’t concern you,” she replies, looking away. She stands up straight and looks every inch the queen. “This is my realm. I’m taking care of it.”

“It used to be _our_ realm,” Jughead insists. He steps towards Veronica. She holds her breath.

“You didn’t want that anymore,” she says slowly. It sounds like bullshit to his ears and he tells her as much. “I told you. I’m tired of being called the manipulator in this situation. So, I took away the question entirely.”

“That’s not fair, Veronica,” he says, pointing at her. “You keep throwing that back in my face!”

“You said it enough times, Jughead!” Veronica shouts back with a disbelieving scoff. “Excuse me for finally taking you at your word!”

“And what about that night?” Jughead asks, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “You mean to tell, that night meant nothing to you? That it _means_ nothing to you?”

“Does it mean anything to you?” she counters. She comes down the few steps in front of the throne to stand in front of him. She’s not wearing her usual heels and Jughead is reminded just how short she actually is. It’s easy to forget that she’s so tiny when she’s such a powerhouse.

“It means everything to me,” Jughead says reaching out to her. He touches her upper arms, fingers sliding over her soft skin. “It meant everything.”

“I didn’t want to force you. Not out of obligation,” Veronica says, shaking her head. “I know how you can be.”

“How I can be?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Always trying to save someone,” she says slowly. She looks up at him through her lashes. “Always willing to make the sacrifice if it’s for the right cause.”

“Well, someone beat me to the punch this time,” Jughead says, tilting his head. Veronica chuckles a little before rolling her eyes. He watches her face grow somber.

“Jughead, please, be sure,” she says softly. “I can’t. I won’t go through all of this again when she comes home. I won’t be left behind again when she calls.”

He cups her cheek and lifts her face up to his. He waits a moment before pressing his lips to hers. It’s barely even a kiss, nothing compared to the kisses that they’ve shared before, but it spreads through him nonetheless.

“It’s my choice and I’m choosing you,” he whispers against her lips fully aware of how cheesy he sounds. But it needs to be said for the both of them. “I choose you, Veronica.”

She swallows the last syllable of her name in a kiss that goes straight through Jughead. He drops his hands to her waist, pulling her in close. She wraps her arms around her neck and pulls herself up, dragging her body along his in an effort to deepen their kiss even more. Months (fucking _years_ if he’s being honest) of pent up attraction pours out in their kiss. Jughead needs air. They both do but he doesn’t want to pull away and, based on the way she’s pulling his hair, Veronica doesn’t either.

Her mouth always taste of pomegranates and the darkness doesn’t seem as dark when they’re together. They have room to grow, of course. They’re still Jughead and Veronica. They’re never going to be perfectly in sync but as Veronica trails kisses down his jaw Jughead finds that he doesn’t mind. That he never has.


End file.
